Red and the Wolfe
by Niah-Miyoki
Summary: If you are reading this, I must start out with this – everything you are about to read is true, unaltered by the handing-down of generations like the false story you probably know. This, is what REALLY happened....


If you are reading this, I must start out with this – everything you are about to read is true, unaltered by the handing-down of generations like the false story you probably know. I will never understand how the modern story, known as "Little Red Riding Hood" came about, for there is little truth to it besides the fact that it contains a girl who favors the color red. Here is what really happened….

This story is about a young girl named Andrea Riding, who did indeed own a red cloak which she cherished, and she had come to bear the nickname "Red". It just so happened that she was out walking that one cool October night, her cloak draped over her shoulders and tied tightly across her chest. Her nightdress swished in and out from its cover, catching what moonlight filtered down from the full moon above through the dark trees. She did indeed live with her mother, and whatever possessed her to go out into the forest that one night against her mother's constant warnings may never be know. Perhaps it was the strange sounds that rang out in the stillness of night.

Red quickened her pace as the wind whistled forebodingly in the darkness. She had come to regret leaving her safe, warm home, but something drove her on, a curiosity perhaps. Red froze as she saw something reflecting the moon's shine, just where the forest thinned out into the clearing by the path to town. It seemed to be a puddle, but it hadn't rained for a long while. She saw the crimson tint burning along the rim of the moon's reflection, and knew with a shock that it was blood. She heard a noise – soft and swift, like a cloak trailing over grass – that set her heart panicking. She scrambled forward down the rocky, dust path, the nervous sweat plastering her chestnut-brown bangs to her forehead.

Laying quite still, propped up against a lone tree, was a young man with jet black hair and scars running down the side of his face. He was the source of the blood, for the crimson liquid stained his white shirt and trickled onto the darkened grass. Part of his hair was parted over his forehead, revealing a deep gash that had to be the source of all the bleeding. His breathing was light and ragged, and Red knew she had to act quickly to save him. With difficulty, Red managed to drag the young man back through the forest, and back to her home, where she woke her mother. After some work, the man was sleeping peacefully in the Riding's living room.

"Why in the world did you go out at night?" Red's mother asked angrily, with worry tinting her tone.

"I heard a noise," Red replied simply. "If I hadn't have gone out, he'd have died." Red's mother's face softened as she turned to the young man.

"What on earth happened to this poor boy?" Red heard her mother whisper, shaking her head slightly. The rise and fall of his chest was steady now, his eyes closed tight in deep sleep. At least he was sleeping now, not knocked unconscious. Red's mother had washed the blood off of his face and arms, but since they had no male clothing to let him borrow they couldn't wash his clothes. Red didn't know why, but she eagerly awaited hearing the young man's story when he awoke. His a final look back at the sleeping visitor Red hung up her cloak and retreated up the stairwell to her bedroom.

As Red lay in her bed staring into the darkness, sleep did not seem to come quickly. She tossed and turned, jumping at every little creak of the house settling or the wind blowing the windowpane. It wasn't until the moon was high up in the charcoal-black sky did Red finally drift off to sleep. Dawn broke swiftly through the darkened clouds, sending forth the golden rays of day over the sleepy countryside and forest beneath it. Red rubbed the final bout of sleep from her eyes, bouncing quickly out of bed when she recalled the previous night's events. She shuffled down the stairs, still in her nightgown, into the kitchen below.

"Good morning, Red," her mother greeted her, at the iron stove cooking some eggs that she had gathered earlier.

"Is he awake yet?" Red asked curiously, peering out the doorway to the living room. Her mother grabbed her shoulder and gently pulled her away.

"Not yet," she answered. "It's best to let him sleep. He's had a rough day." Red nodded her agreement, gathering her skirts and heading for the breakfast table to eat. The warm aroma of eggs drifted around her like a veil, and Red was more than happy when she could finally eat. As she took her first bite there came an unfamiliar voice from the living room.

"Where am I?"

"I think he woke, up," Red commented, but her mother was already rushing out into the living room to confront the young man. Red followed quickly, and found the young man sitting up and looking around frantically.

"Who are you?" he asked, directing the question to both women and looking at them in turn. Red gasped. His eyes… they were as deep and green as the recesses of the forest, with golden flecks like the swathes of sunlight that patched the forest's canopy. They were wide with panic, even as her mother explained what had happened.

"We were hoping you could explain how you ended up the way you were," her mother said slowly. "Can you know your name?"

The young man hesitated, narrowing his eyes slightly in suspicion. "It's Wolfe, ma'am," he muttered at last. "And as for what happened… I… don't really feel like talking about it right now."

"Alright." Red sensed the disappointment and worry in her mother's voice, and by Wolfe's guilty expression she knew he could, too. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes!" Wolfe yelled quickly. "Incredibly."

"I've got some eggs already made, you wait right there and I'll get them." Red's mother hopped to her feet and scurried off to fetch the plate of eggs, leaving Red standing in the middle of the living room, alone.

"What's you and your mother's names?" Wolfe asked firmly, as if to prove he was still strong despite his injuries. He leaned forward, wincing as a wound ached.

"My mother is Genevieve, and I'm Andrea," she replied. "But everyone calls me Red."

Wolfe looked at her questioningly, his brow twitching. "You haven't got red hair."

"It's a long story," she said, waving dismissively. Silence dropped like a stone in the room. Wolfe looked out the front window, his face hardened in a searching glare. Before Red could ask what Wolfe was looking for, her mother came in with the eggs.

"Eat up, you must be hungry," Genevieve insisted, thrusting the plate onto Wolfe's lap and placing a fork in his hand. "I'm sorry if they're a little cold, but you…" She trailed off as Wolfe ate the eggs ungraciously, as if he hadn't had a morsel for days. It was very possible he hadn't, Red thought. Wolfe discarded the unused fork and wiped the bits of egg from his mouth.

"Thank you, ma'am," he murmured politely, handing the plate back to Genevieve. "It was very good."

Genevieve stood there, confused, before saying, "Thank you, glad you enjoyed it…" and heading back for the kitchen to wash the plate off. Wolfe once again returned his gaze out the window, which needless confused Red as well. "Are you looking for something?" she asked softly. "Rain?" Wolfe turned his head quickly towards her, and when their eyes met she swore his forest green eyes flickered into a shade of gold for a fleeting instant. Her own green eyes widened, and Wolfe, seeming to know what happened, flipped over and lay down again.

"Is he asleep again?" Red jumped as her mother's voice broke into her uneasiness.

"Oh… no, I don't think so," she forced out. "I'm going for a walk."

Genevieve frowned curiously. "Are you sure?" But Red walked past her mother, donned her red cloak, and set out through the forest again. Her mind was reeling. Was it just her imagination, or did Wolfe's eyes really turn gold? Rebellion flared inside her. Wolfe never would tell them the truth, about what happened that night. He was hiding something… and she was determined to find out what.


End file.
